


Stay Until Dawn

by wolves_and_starlight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Blades (Supernatural), Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angel True Forms (Supernatural), Angel Wings, Angel/Human Relationships, Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Angelic Grace as a Cure (Supernatural), Angelic Healing, Angelic Lore, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, But it gets better I promise, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel is a Winchester (Supernatural), Castiel is a badass, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Castiel's Tan Trenchcoat (Supernatural), Castiel's True Form (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel’s True Form, Dean Winchester Whump, Dean Winchester is hurt, Dean is the character death, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Hell Hath No Fury Like A Pissed Off Angel, How Do I Tag, Humans vs. Werewolves, Hurt, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major Character Undeath, Major character death - Freeform, One Shot, Oneshot, Or Is he?, Original Character(s), Pain, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Protectiveness, Seraph Castiel (Supernatural), Seraphim, Seraphim True Form, Temporary Character Death, There’s a happy ending, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, This hurts, Whump, Wings, You messed with the wrong angel, fight me, i wrote this back when I shipped Destiel, im sorry, supernatural one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27384829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolves_and_starlight/pseuds/wolves_and_starlight
Summary: Dean and Cas take on a werewolf case that may have been a little too much for them to handle, and Dean gets hurt in the crossfire.OrHell hath no fury like a pissed off Castiel.Get ready for some Destiel angst, TrueForm!Cas and some Dean-o whump  >:)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Destiel
Comments: 14
Kudos: 181





	Stay Until Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely readers! This is a older fic of mine that I wrote way back and had posted but then deleted (long story), but I decided to repost it again!  
> I hope you brought your angst pants and some popcorn, because this ones a bit of a doozy.  
> Since this a older work my writing was absolute *gag* then, at least in my opinion, so I apologize in advance for any and all mistake or inconsistencies :)  
> Okie enough ranting from me, onwards to the show! Enjoy :)

Howls ripped through the air as Dean took down his second werewolf. The pack, a total of 13 wolves, had been terrorizing a small town in Utah; seven dead within a week, most of the victims were girls barely in their late teens. Dean shifted his grip on the silver blade in his hand, the handle a bit sticky with blood, his body tense as he waits for the next attack. Castiel was pulling his sword out of the chest a wolf at his feet, fifteen-ish yards to Dean’s left

Branches snapped and creaked as the remnants of the pack circled the duo in the shadows. Moonlight filtering through the branches of the dense forest trees overhead reflected on gleaming claws and fangs, guttural snarls echoing all around them. “Come on! This the best you can do?” Dean taunted, gesturing at the four bodies littering the ground. Dean would regret that decision almost immediately.

He heard a cry behind him, and Dean turned to see six wolves attacking Castiel.

His blade clashed against three inch claws as the wolves charged at him, the angel only barely keeping them back. Dean bolted forward to help Cas, but before he could even register the movement three wolves had him pinned against a tree.

Two had his arms in a vice grip, their claws digging painfully into his skin. The third, a girl that couldn’t be any older than twenty stood in front of him, her face twisted into a viscous grin. Or was it a grimace? It was hard to tell with those godawful fangs. She took a step forward and grabbed his jaw, her face only inches from his own. The intimacy was making his skin crawl. Dean tried to twist out of their grasp, but claws dug even further into his skin.

“You are going nowhere,” the she-wolf growled, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Cas yelled something, but Dean couldn’t make out what it was. He tried to catch a glimpse of him around the she-wolf, only daring a quick glance. It was not a good scene. Cas was losing the fight with his attackers. His clothes were torn and bloody, and he was bleeding profusely from a gash on his forehead. Their eyes met for a second, and Dean could tell that he was terrified. For himself or Dean or for the both of them, Dean couldn’t tell. 

“You,” the girl snarled, bringing Dean’s attention back to his current situation. “You. Murdered my family. My whole pack.” His eyes widened as realization hit him like a baseball bat.  This whole thing was a set up from the beginning . The case had been easy, a little too easy, but he had dismissed that thought. It was just a hunt, right? Sometimes monsters can get sloppy. Apparently, not the case this time. Fear dropped into his stomach as she revealed a long and ancient looking knife, Enochian runes etched into its gleaming surface. She dragged the tip across Dean’s skin, pressing hard enough to draw blood against his cheekbone.

This is revenge. This is  her  revenge.

“Oh, this little thing?” She gestured at the knife with a subtle head nod. “It’s got a bit of ... Angel insurance, if you will. A small touch of warding.” Her smile widened in a absolutely terrifying way before she was drawing back the knife and driving it deep into the flesh of his abdomen. 

Dean yelled as the white-hot searing pain shot through his body. The she-wolf growled in sick satisfaction as she pulled the blade out and stabbed him again. She grabbed a handful of his sandy hair, her yellow eyes meeting tortured green, and whispered, “For my family,” as she twisted the knife. Dean screamed.

“Dean!!” Castiel yelled, his voice laced with panic.

The wolves holding him up loosened their grip and Dean slumped to the ground. He gasped as he landed on the earthy ground. A red flower was rapidly blooming across his flannel as be tried to stop the blood flow with his hands, but the warm and sticky liquid was flowing with detrimental determination.

Dean’s vision was blurring and his head was swimming.

The knife must’ve hit somethin’ important,  his brain managed to diagnose. 

Yeah, no shit Sherlock,  he retorted. Oh great, having conversations with his brain like it’s a separate entity. Not good. 

“DEAN!!” the angel screamed.

Now, If any werewolves had survived the following minutes, they would’ve said an atom bomb went off. 

People in the neighbouring towns would say it was a 6.7 earthquake.

The reality was much more-

Well ...

A wave of pure celestial energy exploded from the Seraphim, flattening trees and vaporizing his six assailants in an instant. The three wolves that stood over Dean’s fallen form flew back and landed with a hard thud against the forest floor, then scrambled up to fight this new attacker before freezing in utter terror. 

Castiel’s eyes glowed with a divine power that burned at their very souls. Six midnight black wings dusted with innumerable stars unfolded from his back; wings that have been scorched by hellfire and the Fall. The the burnt and bent feathers didn’t make them look any less magnificent, if anything they looked even more badass. Blinding blue-white light emanated from his body, swirling around him like liquid smoke. The wolves and hunter saw the angel’s vessel flicker out of sight, like a faulty TV set, and what replaced it was something beautiful.

And horrifying.

Dean shakily reached his hand up to cover his eyes, but his hand never made it all the way. He couldn’t stop looking.

Dean had always wondered about Cas’s true form. He had mentioned it a few times in an offhand way, but never actually tried to describe what he really was. Just that he was as big as the Chrysler Building and could become a ‘wavelength of celestial intent’, which wasn’t exactly a helpful description. And what he saw towering fifty over him was nothing like he ever imagined.

There were four animal heads -a raven, antelope, wolf, and zebra- each topped with a blinding halo of light. Long serpentine necks connected them to a dragon-like body, but instead of scales, there was tongues of flame in colours Dean didn’t recognize and couldn’t possibly begin to describe. It’s body ended with five flame-feather crested tails, which were weaving and flicking around his body. His wings were still present, but were now ten times their size, and seemed to be made out of the galaxy itself.

And all six were flared out in a glorious display of rage.

There were eyes running along the topmost sides of the wings and along his back down to the tips of his tails. All his heads had two pairs, two eyes on either side of each face. Every one was a blazing wheel of blue fire, adorned with cat-like pupils that were so endless they could swallow the universe if they so choose. And all were fixed on the cowering pack of wolves; blazing with righteous fury.

It was impossible. Dean’s mind could barely process what he was seeing, and he wondered if he was supposed to be seeing it at all. 

This is Castiel. Angel of the Lord.

If this was his true form, maybe this is what Pamela experienced right before her eyes caught fire.

Dean didn’t fail to notice the scars that decorated the divine creature. One eye on the wolf’s head was scarred and milky white, and long claw marks decorated his side and chest, running up his necks. The antelope head was missing a horn, and one tail was significantly shorter than the rest. And that was what the hunter could see now at his current position.

_Oh god Cas, why didn’t you tell me you were hurting._

Castiel opened his mouths and a deafeningly load ringing filled the air. The werewolves sank to the ground covering their ears, howling and screaming as blood leaked between their fingers. Dean could feel the sound beat at his eardrums, but he was trying to keep himself from bleeding to death so he couldn’t really do anything about it. Although the wolves seemed to be in worse pain then him.

As quickly as the image of of this divine celestial being appeared, it faded away to reveal the trench-coated Cas that Dean knows, the wound on his head healed and clothes repaired, but still scary as fuck with the wings and ethereal light.

Castiel approached the cowering pack with rage written on every molecule of his body. The ringing had died down but was still uncomfortably loud. His wings were flared and bristling; arching high over his head. Castiel reached out his hand towards the wolves, and with a snap of his fingers, they exploded in a flurry of ash.

Castiel lowered his hand and the ringing quieted, the fire in his eyes extinguished. He ran over to where Dean lay on the forest floor, wings fading out of sight, stopping at the hunter’s side and kneeling down on the ground. He grasped Dean’s hands in his and gently moved them away from the wounds to examined the damage.

“How’s it look doc? Should I cancel my hip-hop lesson?” he joked, but his unsteady voice betrayed his fear. His shirt is soaked through with blood, his hands stained crimson, and his skin was ghostly pale. He was shaking, either from what he just saw or injury induced shock. Or maybe both. Cas’ eyes raked over the torn skin, the scarlet rivers trickling through Dean’s hands. His face was a stony mask, unreadable. When he doesn’t get a response, Dean shifted his hand so that he’s holding Cas’ wrist, smearing blood on his skin.

“Cas ... I don-“

“No.”

The angel cut him off. Cas looked him straight in the eyes. “You’re going to be fine.” It sounded more like he was telling himself that, but it was still reassuring. He raises his hands and hovers them over the wounds. His eyes ignited with the electric light and a quiet ringing fills the air, and Dean closes his eyes as he felt the comforting warmth of Grace flow through his body. But something wasn’t right; he could still feel the fiery hot pain in his stomach.

Confused, Cas shook his head and tried again. 

Light.

Ringing.

Warmth.  
  


Dean is still not healing.

Fear replaces confusion on Cas’ features. “I don’t-“ he starts but gets cut off when Dean starts coughing violently. Cas grabs Dean’s trembling shoulders to try and keep him still as to not worsen his wounds. When Dean regains control over his breathing, there’s a trickle of blood running from his mouth. Their eyes meet; Dean’s green with Cas’ blue.

They’re both terrified.

Castiel shrugs off his coat and presses it onto Dean’s abdomen, the hunter whimpering at the contact. Cas quickly scoured the ground, his gaze landing on the offending weapon. He grabbed the leather-wrapped handle and brought it close to his face, eyes squinting as he reads the runes. He yelps as the handle turns white hot and he drops the weapon as his wings bristle.

“That’s an Angel Druid blade,” he whispers.

Dean knew very well what a Druid blade was. The demon killing knife from Ruby was a Druid blade. He also knew that there were blades specifically designed for demons- and for angels; although thought to be destroyed long ago.

Apparently not.

The angel class were warded to a point where it made angelic healing impossible, even at full strength.

“No. No, no, no, no,” Castiel whispers. “No, please no.” Wetness runs down Castiel’s cheek and drips off his chin. When did he start crying?

Dean coughs out a laugh; a sad, quiet, raspy sound filled with pain.

“It’s not a bad way to go, taken out on a hunt,” he mumbles.

“Dean, it’ll be okay. I- I’ll ...” Cas trailed off, not knowing how to end that sentence. Panic and fear is tearing through the him. He frantically scanned the forest, hoping to see anything, anyone too help. All he saw was ash and the earth greedily taking Dean’s blood. This is his worst nightmare. Watching his family die, watching  Dean  die, and being unable to save them.

Dean reached up and rested his hand on Castiel’s cheek, cupping his face. Cas. It’s okay. Hey, look at me.” Cas’s eyes had closed at Dean’s touch. “It’s okay, Just ... L-look after Sammy for me, alright? Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. And Baby too, cause Sammy doesn’t know a thing about takin’ care of her. He whispers a chuckle followed by a sharp breath and a wince. “Promise me, Cas. Please.”

Castiel was dying inside. A heavy, dark fog was settling on him; like a weight you could never lift. He could see Dean’s soul dimming every second; the brightest and purest he’d ever seen, shining like the sun.

Now it was dying like fire without air.

“Castiel.”

He was more than a little shocked at the use of his full name. No one has used it in years. It’s always been ‘Cas’; even when they were fighting.

“No. Dean, you’re going to be alright.” Cas’ voice was becoming unsteady as he fought to keep his panic at bay. “Look, well get back to the bunker and Sam will find something, or Jack will heal you, or-“

He was cut off by Dean’s fingers against his lips. Dean drew a shallow rattling breath before speaking. “I’m sorry, Cas. I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me. I’m sorry for what I’ve said- I ... I’m so sorry Cas.” The tears were flowing freely now.

Castiel was shattering. “Dean, no- it wasn’t your fault. You did what you thought was right.”

“It wasn’ righ’ to treat you like tha’ ...” Dean speech was slurring, and his eyes were rolling and unfocused.

Castiel cupped Dean’s face in his bloody hands. “Dean, please no. Please don’t leave me. Please.”

A cold wind whistled through the trees, swirling around the two figures so desperately hurting.

Dean forced his eyes to meet Cas’. A small weak smile graced his lips, and he whispered to his angel with his final breath: “I love you, Cas.”

Dean’s body went slack as the last flickering light of his soul extinguished.

The Seraph screamed into the night, a broken, shattered and agonized plead. Castiel sobbed and begged him to stay, to come back, as he held the body of the Righteous Man. He tried to heal him again and again and again but every attempt broke him even further. He couldn’t rekindle the blazing spark in the body in his arms. He stayed in that forest for what felt like hours, begging every deity he could think of, even his father, to help him, to please  save him.

No one answered.

Castiel hugged Dean close and rested his forehead against his hunter’s. He breathed in the smell of sun warmed leather, pie spice and fresh rain, the smell of his hunter. Castiel opened his eyes to looks at Dean’s closed ones, hoping to see his emerald greens staring back.

He would never see them again. 

He choked out a sob as he whispered in a tortured voice words for only the wind tohear. Words he had been keeping for years, waiting to be spoken at the right time.

“I love you too.” And tilting his head, he gently pressed his lips to Dean’s.

That’s when it happened.

It started small, a faint glow that began between them and grew and grew until it was a blinding cloud of white, blue and warm gold. Tendrils of it snaked around Castiel as he stared at it in wonder, circling him and his fallen charge. His grip tightened, but he wasn’t afraid. Some part of his being knew it wasn’t gong to hurt him. It felt almost ... familiar. It danced and pulsed lazily in the air, and the sense of familiarity was growing; a nagging feeling nipping at the edges of Cas’ thoughts. He stared for a moment longer before the memory broke to the forefront oh his mind. 

_ A grave, tucked neatly into the forest line; well hidden from the nearby road. The stink of surfer still clinging to his burnt and ashy wings: wings that were once brighter than snow.  _

_ The soul of the righteous man tucked close into his Grace as he began reconstruction of the body in the pine box, six feet below the ground. The handprint left from when he transferred the brightest soul he’d ever seen to the vessel burned onto his shoulder, refusing to heal no matter how hard Castiel tried. The tug he felt in his Grace as the soul settled into the body before him, blazing brighter than ever before. The feeling lingered even as he took off, injured wings carrying him dutifully as ever as he called out to his brothers and sisters. _

_“Dean Winchester is saved.”_  


Castiel’s eyes flew wide; the answer hitting him like a tonne of bricks.

The bond.

_ Their  _ bond.

When Cas returned Dean’s soul to his body, and his handprint burned onto the skin of his shoulder, a connection was formed. A direct line formed between angel and human. A small, undetectable shard was left embedded in Cas’ Grace, and an inkling of Grace intertwined with the hunter’s soul.

It was a fucking lifeline.

Cas focused on the glowing mass snaking and weaving in front of him, the cool blue and warm gold mixing together perfectly as they swam in the air. Cas knew what the colours meant, and it doubled the spark of hope that dared to flare inside him. He put all of his concentration on the light, willing it to move,  _ to heal. _

The light continued to swirl through the air before it moved to Dean’s wounds and brightened to the point where even the angel had to look away. A surge of heat flared around the two figures as the light reached its brightest point. When it dimmed, not a single trace of the stab wounds were left: only the blood caked fabric remained to bear any witness. Castiel’s jaw dropped slightly and he trailed over the previously torn flesh with his hand, finding only unblemished skin.

He head snapped up when Dean coughed.

“Dean?!” he gasped as he ran his hand over his face and sandy hair.

Dean’s eyes fluttered open, those glorious green eyes, and he rasped out a single word: “Cas ...?”

Castiel was crying again, but these weren’t bitter tears. These were tears of euphoria and happiness; of pure joy and love.

“Dean- Oh thank Father, I-“ He was cut off by Dean’s lips on his.

When they broke apart, there was tears in Dean’s eyes. Castiel’s had never stopped.

“Dean you were-“

Dean cut him off. “I know. I’m okay now, I’m okay. He pressed his forehead against the angel’s and muttered, “I love you.”

Cas laughed through tears, a smile lighting up his eyes. “I love you too.”

They sat there for a few minutes before Dean stood, a little unsteady, but Cas was there to support him. “Let’s go home,” he sighed.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replied, still smiling.

Castiel supported Dean on the walk back to the Impala. She was miraculously still in one piece, not a single scratch on her, even though the surrounding foliage was blackened. Dean couldn’t help but stare at the damage from Castiel’s fury, his eyes widened as he took in the blast site. It wasn’t until Cas had helped him into the front seat of the Impala and Cas had settled behind the steering wheel and was guiding them to open road did he ask a question that had been nagging at him.

“You never told me you had four heads,” Dean blurted out, keeping head ducked.

Cas laughed as he pushed Dean’s favourite Led Zepplin track into the stereo. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I’m sorry for the bad writing but hey, what can ya do about it hah. I might ‘remaster’ it at some point 🤔  
> Please let me know what you thought bc your feedback keeps this writer’s dusty old wheels turning :)))


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